


A Flower Unlike Any Other

by Amugon



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Poison Ivy basically raises Tim au, Slow Burn, first person POV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-28 14:03:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5093447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amugon/pseuds/Amugon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before everything happened things were fine. Tv was watched together in the living room, dinner around the table, and amazing family bonding.<br/>All of it was taken away instantly.</p><p>AU in which Tim Drake is taken by Poison Ivy and becomes like her.<br/>//Abandoned\\</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A word of warning before reading: I am working on my own original story at the moment so the updates may take time or the updates will be short and quick.

I run and I run, trying not to stop. Everything is still fresh in my mind. Mom. Dad. The blood trailing along the cracks in the flooring. A distorted figure brandishing a knife covered in the blood. There was no time to call authorities, I just ran out. If I wasn’t fast then I would be next. But what's the point if I have no one to guide me?  
I tripped on a root poking out of the ground. Swelling pain rose up from my knee. Behind me the figure was following, knife still in hand. My eyes widened and stung from the air and building tears. I try to get up, but pain jolts from my leg and causes me to collapse again. My tears roll down my cheeks into my mouth. I give up and bury my head into the dirt.  
It wasn’t pain I felt during the minutes in which I should have died. It was the tree of the root I fell over. It was as if all of its roots and branches were gathering me up into it. I try to scream and am muffled by leaves of a branch. My eyes search around frantically looking for the murderer. The figure is no longer in my sight and maybe gone now for the rest of the night. Nothing changes that I’m still being devoured by a tree. I try to wrap my arms around the branches holding me up from my waist, but end up having them trapped by more branches.  
The trunk of the tree splits and begins pulling me into it. I struggle as best as I can, only being able to wiggle my torso. My legs are still free and try to kick at the tree, but every branch is too far apart. I don’t understand why I was so determined to live in that moment.

I wake up in a garden in a very large greenhouse. The air seems fresher than any that I have ever breathed in. The entire place is ethereal. Instead of concrete or wood flooring there is just grass with very few blank patches. It looks like every plant in the world could be here. There are multiple plants that look as though they have purple fuzz covering their leaves. I think they are the most beautiful ones in the garden.   
Far from where I lay I see the movement of a person with red-orange hair. They come closer and say something about how they are glad I am awake. They talk about how they came about finding me before they introduce themself as Pamela Isley, she is a botanist. Pamela tells me that she is more commonly known to the public as Poison Ivy, but I may still call her Pamela or Miss Isley.   
It seemed like I was listening for hours, but it was probably more like ten minutes. Pamela finally asks me my name and I tell her I’m Tim Drake and just that. She asks why I was out at night and I refuse to answer. Pamela accepts my decision and says I’ll tell her when I feel like it. I like Pamela Isley, I think she’s the second most beautiful thing in the garden.  
It seems as though I woke up days ago, but I know it’s only been twenty minutes. I roll to my side and the plant I’ve been resting on moves with the shift of weight. Pamela watches me curl up and close my eyes, she doesn’t seem to mind that I’m sleeping longer. I drift off into a sleep without dreams or even terrors because everything's so muddled now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there's a better way to format the stories on here, but I forgot how so some help with that would be great c:

When I woke up again there was a glass of water to the left of me. I almost knocked it over while stretching my arms. It felt like my limbs were cement. And for a while I felt as though I was home, but everything came back. I turned away from the glass and curled up into my body and began to cry. My eyes stung more than they ever have before.

After what felt like hours I got up and finally took a clear look around. My vision was slightly blurred by a few blotches of tears. The water that sat there for however long was probably no longer warm, but I drink it all quickly anyways. I stand up and it feels like my legs are caked with clay and full of sand. There are so many more plants that I never saw and some seem outright alien. The greenhouse starts looking less like one, but more of a factory long abandoned by workers.

The ceiling is open letting all the elements inside. Large trees with palm leaves rise all the way to catch any rain that threatens to flood the place. I feel like I was picked out of Gotham and put on a lost island. I know that’s not the case. I remember Pamela Isley from the first time I woke up. She currently isn’t here or at least not in this room. All she left me with was water and the company of her plants. Beyond some of the plants there are hidden doors. Right beyond a gathering of colorful flowers and leaves I see a door kept in good shape.

I go to move from my spot, but my legs feel as though all the sand shifted and continues trickle down again. My legs haven’t given up the long rest we’ve had. I keep swaying my legs to get them back into feeling right. It was minutes of constant prickling before I was able to move comfortably again. Beneath me grass and plants moved as I walked. In that moment I realized I no longer had shoes on. The dirt beneath me was soft and stuck to my feet.

By time I made it to the door my feet were covered entirely in dirt, even my toe nails. I gripped the hand of the door and push in. No budge. I then tried to pull it towards me. There was no way it would be able to open this way because of all the dirt built up onto it. I took a small break before I put all my weight onto opening the door. It swung open and I fell into the next room and a bruise began to bud on my right shoulder.

The room is dark, very dark. I have to strain my eyes just to see tables set up everywhere. The sides of the room are aligned with what looks like broken factory machines. I get up, putting all my weight on my left arm. I moved my hands along the wall with the door looking for a light switch, hoping that the power miraculously still works. I find a knob and turn it and in seconds there was very dim lighting in the room. There’s nothing very special about the room, in fact it’s utterly plain.

I go back through the door back into the large garden. Miss Isley must have been waiting for a few minutes. She was sitting on a tree branch near where she has my bed of leaves. “Now why would you wander off in a home you don’t even know?” she asked me. It was cool to hear her call this place home. She isn’t like most adults I know, they would never call this home.

“I was looking for you,” I answered. Miss Isley nodded her head. She flicked her hand and a branch grew out the ground and scooped me up to sit near her. I love her powers. The news makes her out to be a dangerous terrorist, but I don’t see her that way. She uses the power of creation to try and help and from the watchers view it doesn’t seem that way. Before I would be screaming, but after seeing her beautiful garden I have a new image of her, a better one.

“My plants already like you, so I suppose I should keep you,” she said and a plant rose into her hands. The bud instantly bloomed and it was like a blue frayed rose. I wish I paid more attention to Mom when she talked about flowers because I like this one. Miss Isley gently took the flower and put it somewhere in my hair. “It’s a blue carnation. It is very special.”

I felt like I had just received the greatest gift of all. A desire to keep it rose within me. It is a special gift that I must never damage or get rid of. “Hey, listen,” Miss Isley said smoothly, as though she was holding back a powerful force. “I need to tell you some things about the night you ran into the woods.” I knew she would eventually bring it up. I don’t want to talk about it, but how am I supposed to say no after all this? “I don’t know how well you remember it all. So, can you tell me what you remember?”

“I was running from a murderer,” tears threatened me by stinging my eyelids, “I thought I was going to die! Every time I looked back he was closer! The-then and fell over and-” the tears broke past the barrier of my eyelids. Miss Isley tried to comfort me by wiping them away with a finger. The entire event was ripped open again. “A tree ate me!” I cried.  
“I’m so very sorry,” Miss Isley pulled my head against hers and ran her fingers through my hair. I wrapped my arms around her and buried my head into her neck. It felt like I was crying into my mom. The feelings were so similar. My tears came back quicker and continued to sting my eyes. “There’s something I really need you to be prepared for to hear. It may come as a great shock, but tell me when you’re ready.” Miss Isley said over my shoulder. Her voice was muffled in my left ear. I rose my head up to hear her.

“I don’t think it can make things worse.”

**Author's Note:**

> I also apologize for any mistakes. I have to get back into using ao3.


End file.
